


Auguries of Innocence

by Flenser



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11000982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flenser/pseuds/Flenser
Summary: Jean realizes something he kinda wishes he didn't.





	Auguries of Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> Jearmin feels are hittin' me real good these days, dudes.
> 
> For [Aurum](http://geolu.tumblr.com/).

When it happens, it’s an accident.

They’re both exhausted, and Armin is injured. His head is still wrapped in slightly filthy bandages from the incident earlier that day. The wound isn’t as bad as it looks, just a knock to the head and a cut that bled more than necessary, but it left the boy dazed enough to suggest leaving him behind when Jean’s horse didn’t return. It was just the concussion talking. That’s what Jean tells himself, anyway, because the alternative is depressing.

They’re silent on the way back. Jean’s still processing the events of the day, and Armin’s been fighting off sleep for a while, chin occasionally dropping to his chest before he jerks himself awake. Jean’s heard somewhere that it’s dangerous for the concussed to sleep, so he’s prepared to step in with a shake if Armin manages to nod off. It would be easy enough to do: Jean’s always found the plodding gait of a horse to be soothing, and they’ve had a long, traumatic day.

Armin slumps a little further than usual before his head snaps up, nearly clocking Jean in the chin. They’re doubled up, horses at a premium after the disastrous result of the Fifty-Seventh Expedition Outside the Wall. Jean doesn’t mind; the position allows him catch the boy should he fall and he likes knowing Armin is alive and within his reach.

The last thought is a new one for him. It came to him seemingly out of the blue, at the exact moment the Female Type Titan slapped Armin from his horse. He hit the ground hard, Jean’s stomach dropping with his ragdoll little body, and before Jean knew it he was screaming and throwing himself at her, shining blades akimbo. It’s probably one of the more reckless things he’s ever done, especially considering what Armin had theorized about her, but he couldn’t help himself. He was afraid. It wasn’t until they were relatively safe in the Forest of Giant Trees that he allowed himself to fully consider exactly who he was afraid for.

Armin sways suddenly to the left, and Jean drops the reins to grab him, holding him upright. Armin tenses under his hands, breath rasping, chest heaving. He must not be entirely awake, still trapped in whatever twilight nightmare occupies his mind, because Jean can feel the panic rolling off of him in shivering waves.

“It’s me,” Jean murmurs with a gentle squeeze of his hands. “I’ve got you.”

Jean’s words do the trick. Armin relaxes and heaves out a stuttering sigh. “Sorry,” he breathes after a moment, shoulders sagging like he might slip off the horse again.

Jean grips Armin’s arms a little tighter, tugging the slight boy back. He’ll soon tire if he has to keep propping him up like this, but the ambulances are at the back of the train and he doesn’t really want to let Armin out of his sight. A solution comes clear to Jean’s mind, but he’s not sure if he should make the suggestion. He’s been chewing all day on the notion that Armin might be a little more important to him than he thought, something beyond simple camaraderie, but the extent is something he hasn’t quite figured out yet. He’s pretty sure he isn’t ready to know.

The decision is made for him when Armin nods and jerks again.

Jean doesn’t even ask, just pulls the boy into him so his slender little back is pressed flush against Jean’s front. Armin makes no protest when Jean shifts him so he’s resting more firmly and comfortably, caged within Jean’s arms, his body light and pliant, utterly spent. Armin gives a tiny, satisfied sigh as his head lolls back against Jean’s shoulder, golden crown just inches from Jean’s nose. The scent of rosemary reaches Jean’s nostrils. He’s surprised to find that Armin doesn’t smell like an injured soldier, all sweat and blood and fear. There’s a hint of fear there, yes, but rosemary and a soft kind of sweetness prevail. Violets, maybe. Something tightens in Jean’s chest and he swallows hard. This isn’t good.

“It’s not true, you know,” Armin murmurs.

Jean can feel the boy’s bluebell eyes on him, watching. He doesn’t dare look down. “What’s not?” he asks.

“I won’t die if I fall asleep,” Armin tells him. He sounds amused.

Armin’s cleverer than most, and Jean’s grown to trust just about anything he says, but in this he doesn’t want to take the chance. “You read that in a book somewhere?” he grunts.

Armin shakes his head, causing him to lose his equilibrium and tilt a little to the right. Jean hoists him back up and cradles his backside more firmly into his hips to steady him. The bounce of the horse causes them to rub against each other _just so_ and Jean flushes, keenly aware of what he’s just done.

“Fine,” Jean croaks, then clears his throat. He can still feel Armin’s eyes on him and he hopes he doesn’t look as stirred up as he suddenly feels. “Sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

“All right,” Armin says after a moment. “Thanks, Jean.” He turns his face into the crook of Jean’s neck and nestles in, heaving out a sigh as he lets himself relax into Jean’s arms. He’s out before Jean can even reply.

“No problem,” Jean mutters to himself and stares out at the horizon, suddenly feeling weary and like he needs to cry. He’s pretty sure he knows what this is now and while the thought isn’t exactly unwelcome he has no idea what to do about it. How would it even work? Would Armin feel the same way? Is it even allowed?

Armin shifts in his sleep, turning slightly and pressing his nose to the exposed skin at Jean’s throat. His warm, damp breath ghosts across Jean’s skin, making it pebble, and Jean closes his eyes, willing his rabbiting pulse to slow. He was right before, he decides. He isn’t ready to know about this. He isn’t ready to know, yet it’s happening anyway. He’s clueless, adrift in a lake of feelings the weight of which he’s only just beginning to comprehend. Usually when Jean doesn’t understand a thing he asks Armin about it, but this one’s not something he wants the other boy to know about yet, if ever. Jean has to field this one alone.

The horse stumbles, forcing Jean’s crotch to rub against Armin’s backside again, and Armin makes a tiny sound. Jean grits his teeth in aroused shame and prays that Armin can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest.

It’s going to be a very long ride back to Karanes.


End file.
